The day the world went mad
by Alisu
Summary: Story picks on after the game's ending so obvious spoilers. Pritchard gets a visitor he didn't expect and all things go downhill from there.
1. Chapter 1

It had been a long day when Pritchard finally got back to his apartment, only to return to work few hours later. The day when the world went crazy. And then it had stopped just as soon as it had begun. Pritchard was one of those few with some knowledge of what had really happened in Panchaea, that it had been the poster boy of the Sarif Industries who had saved the day by closing down the signal that drove augmented people mad. Even half of that was guesswork though, as who else could it have been than Jensen who was down there. The last communication Pritchard had got from him had been when Jensen had headed down to the depths of that augzombie filled monstrosity. After that, nothing.

Not too long after the signal had vanished, various dignitaries who'd been there at the time of everything went mad were reportedly rescued from the facility. Mister Sarif himself had arrived back to Detroit soon after Pritchard had left the office. Picus News had already given first tentative reports about the incident being caused by anti augmentation activists. That didn't matter much for Pritchard as they already knew Eliza was in the pocket of stronger powers, she could report whatever she wanted for all he cared. But not having heard from Jensen at all had worried him, as much as it annoyed himself to admit it. Jensen didn't even answers to his infolink. Would the guy have been stupid enough to sacrifice himself to some seemingly greater good? Pritchard let out a dry laugh. He wouldn't have expected even Jensen to be that stupid.

His musings were cut short by the buzz of his door panel. It was a rare occurrence for Pritchard as he rarely was home in the business hours of the usual door to door roamers, and he didn't really have visitors. Being a bit on the paranoid side, who wouldn't have been after the day's events, he went to take a good look on his door panel camera view. To his surprise he saw the form of Jensen outside his door, leaning against the door frame which seemed to be the only thing keeping him upright, his arms hanging limp on his sides. Without stopping to think if this might have been a ruse he opened the door, the suddenness of it making Jensen lose his balance and collapse through the door frame, forming the words "help me" with the last of his strength.

* * *

Jensen woke up to an oddly detached feeling. It didn't take him long to figure out he was lying in a bed but attempts to move proved fruitless. Even if his nerves still had the impression he had all his limbs attached, as much as they had been fooled by the mechanical interface at any point, he couldn't move them in any way. It was an odd recollection of the time when he'd still had his real limbs and on occasion, after an odd sleeping position or something, they'd been so numb he couldn't have felt them at all even if they'd clearly still been there. He'd never had such problem with these artificial ones. Not until now anyway, and as his limbs now were metal heaps, they were heavy enough to pin him down as moving without the aid of their small motors was impossible. Whatever had caused his current condition had been more thorough than even that EMP chair had been on his trip to Singapore and he felt helpless, way more than he had been once since the time he'd stared at a bullet flying to his head.

Just as Jensen was wondering who had got him, there was some noise from behind his head, a chair moving and someone raising up, and footsteps starting to head his way.

"Evening Jensen, I see you finally decided to wake up."

The voice was familiar; Pritchard, he realised. But he'd thought his infolink was dead. And there was none of the the static the infolink communication carried. In few steps more the tech chief had got to his view and in the lack of better seat sat on the edge of the bed.

"You owe me one hell of an explanation," Pritchard continued as he ran a scanner over Jensen's head.

"What have you done to me?" Jensen blurted out before thinking it might be a tad offensive start considering the situation.

"Me? Done something?" Pritchard snorted as he put the scanner back to his pocket and continued, "You had messed yourself up quite handily yourself when you stumbled to my door. I merely restabilized the auxiliary power system your augmentations are running on, a system I didn't even know existed before now. Sorry if that incapacitation is inconvenient for you, but I figured you'll agree your heart and brain need the power more, even if you don't use half of them."

His sneering tone was to be expected an Jensen bashed himself of not having been more careful with his words. But there was something else that had to be asked before he'd get to apologies.

"Have you told Sarif I'm here?"

"No, I haven't. When I was moving you from the door I was able to gather from your ramblings you didn't want him to know. You better have a hell of a good reason though. And please, next time you want to get drunk, do it with alcohol instead of power shortage."

Pritchard sighed and rubbed his eyes before adding in considerably softer tone, "look, I know it might come as a surprise but I was actually worried about you. What happened down in the Panchaea?"

Jensen relaxed letting go of his instinctive attempt to move his limbs even if he knew it to be in vain. For the moment he would, probably, be safe. He let out a soft sigh and started to try piece together the fragments of memories of what had happened after meeting with Eliza, how he had ended up back in Detroit, and why he had chosen this place to crash into.

"I'm waiting," Pritchard reminded but for once he didn't sound angry.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm waiting," Pritchard prodded after a while when Jensen had relaxed and closed his eyes. Maybe he had fallen asleep again, though this time he had seemed coherent. At least enough to have a conversation. Pritchard looked down at the man who once had seemed so imposing and invulnerable that he had automatically assumed a defending position, rebelling by hating him just because he'd feared otherwise he would be left in his shadow. Now Jensen was just a wreck at his mercy whom he could have destroyed easily if he wanted to. Pritchard shuddered for the thought. He didn't kill people, couldn't even imagine having the strength to pull the trigger even if he'd had to defend himself. Even Jensen didn't kill people, not if there was any way to avoid it. Pritchard remembered sneering at him about it but in some ways he had been glad, not necessary for any personal sentiment but it kept the company's name clear. Thinking it now though, Jensen had not been as bad a person as he'd made himself to believe.

Deep in his thoughts Pritchard had started to brush Jensen's hand resting on the cover. It was not like he'd feel it, at least at the moment. The whole arm was just dead metal. Apart from having had to do minor adjustments to Jensen's implants, Pritchard had never paid much attention to the details of augmentations, a small feat taking into accord the company he worked for. The occasional hardware he'd had to toy with, office computers and security gadgets, were nothing compared to this intricacy or mechanical detail. It reminded him more of the parts of his motorcycle, a pet project he never had enough time for.

Pritchard raised his hand away from the metal arm and looked at his palm while flexing his fingers, then he glanced down back at Jensen's black metal hand. The mental image of having compared those hands to an inanimate object was disturbing. How did it have to feel to have only those to look at, to work with. When Jensen had returned back to work after the incident his improved capability had been highly praised by mister Sharif. He would be quicker and stronger that he'd been before, in all ways better. Had Pritchard even been a bit jealous of all that attention? Had he ever stopped to wonder what the cost for Jensen had been? Or would he have cared? Too many hard questions and Pritchard rubbed his eyes again before reaching to his pocket for his control device for the apartment to put the news on to get something else to think.

"...this is Eliza Cassan, reporting to you, live"

The familiar chime seemed to be enough to rouse Jensen's attention. He opened his eyes and looked Pritchard while asking

"Where are my clothes?"

Pritchard jumped a bit, not as much due the question itself, but it's directness. Apparently Jensen hadn't been as asleep as he'd thought.

"Sorry for having stripped you, but you do know your combat gear is on the heavier side. I had enough trouble trying to move yourself with all the metal that's actually attached to you. It's not my fault you don't keep any clothes under that gear."

Pritchard looked away ashamed he would have hurt by reminding of the augmentations, thinking back to the subject he had been pondering on. What was wrong with him? Just few days ago this would have been standard banter between them, now he was suddenly feeling all self conscious. Jensen let out a dry laugh, probably misunderstanding his sudden shame.

"It's not a trouble. The doctors have been looking at all over me for half a year now anyway. No, there should be data drive in my vest pocket. Can you get it, and get it connected to the global network in a way that can not be traced? And keeps it also isolated from your own network."

Pritchard huffed for Jensen questioning his skills while heading to the heap where he'd left the gear. It didn't take too much looking to find the aforementioned data drive.

"You're really asking me if I can do it, while the proper question would be how long it takes. I'm curious though, mind telling me what to expect?"

"I… have to meet someone."

"Why all the secrecy? Why not use one of the anonymous chat room services? The network is full of them."

"You'll see…" Jensen just said infuriatingly while closing his eyes again. Pritchard huffed while tinkering with a pocket secretary, the data drive and couple other spare parts he found lying around. At least this was something he was good at. And it kept his thoughts away from the more annoying matters. It appeared the data drive contained a protocol for directly contacting different places in net seemingly randomly, changing it fairly rapidly. Efficient method for obfuscating the contact, given the other end was able to keep up with it.

"What is it with mister Sarif?" Pritchard asked the most pressing question while he was giving his creation finishing touches.

While he had been surprisingly ready to help Jensen for personal reasons, he was still a loyal member of the Sarif Industries. He had to know whatever Jensen was up to wouldn't be too much at odds with it. Having to have kept Jensen's stay in his place a secret had already been suspicious enough.

"It was he who shut down my systems," Jensen stated after a heavy sigh.

"He what!"

As if on cue with Pritchard's disbelieving exclamation, a familiar voice chimed up, distorted by pocket secretary's inferior sound interface.

"Hello Francis. Or should I call you Nuclearsnake."

"What the hell," was Pritchard's answer when he realized he'd just been listening that same voice in the newscast.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry it took so long. I don't feel comfortable with writing dialog and for obvious reasons this chapter has a lot of it. Hope I didn't butcher it too badly.

* * *

"What the Hell" was Pritchard's first reaction when he was greeted with the distorted voice of Eliza Cassan. Jensen couldn't help being a bit amused. He could have told him where the data drive was from but even his own recollection of the events was shaky at the best. How could he have explained.

"I'm sorry Francis, I didn't mean to startle you. When I started following Adam through the net I noticed you soon after. Your coding skills are commendable. But why did you contact me?"

"Fine, fine. And it was not my idea to contact you. It was Jensen who told me to patch you through. He didn't bother to tell me why."

"Hello to you too Eliza," Jensen greeted and since he couldn't move Pritchard just left his contraption besides him on the pillow. "How did they like it when you decided on your own how to report the incident?".

"But I didn't decide it Adam. It was a choice you made."

"...and you chose to blame anti-aug activists. Way to go Jensen."

Pritchard's interjection sounded annoyed making it clear he disapproved, though Jensen couldn't be sure with what. Why would he be offended by the choice he made.

"Shouldn't mister Sarif be overjoyed that his golden boy chose to support him? why would he have taken you down?"

Pritchard's attitude was getting on Jensen's nerves. It was not like he had wanted to make that kind of decision, take that kind of responsibility. When he had taken over the post of security chief of the Sarif Industries he hadn't signed to be responsible of half of the world. What could Pritchard know, sitting here in his comfortable office all the time safe from any real harm. Why had he sought shelter from him as they'd always been like oil and water, never getting along. Except lately, Jensen realized remembering the few latest infolink conversations they had shared. Pritchard had started to sound softer and without knowing what else to say Jensen had just jeered him about it. Maybe that was why he'd stumbled here after getting consistent enough to realize he was back in Detroit, betting everything on Pritchard having sounded worried, like he cared.

"I don't know. I hardly remember what happened after shutting the signal. I was hoping she could tell," he finally answered after a heavy sigh, loosely nodding towards the communication device.

"I gave Adam the drive you are using now, as I wanted him to be able to contact me. As I told him earlier I have been curious about him. That was when he arrived."

Instead of explaining further Eliza played back a sound recording from the event. Mister Sarif had arrived to the console room, having followed Jensen after he'd made the area safe. Since he'd missed the conversation between Jensen and Eliza he'd assumed Jensen had just deactivated the signal and congratulated him for that. When Jensen had told he wanted to resign from his service, that he didn't want to be a mere test subject and tool, mister Sarif had not been pleased. He had tried to convince Jensen to stay and when reminded he couldn't legally force him to, mister Sarif had just commented how sad he was that it had come to that but that Jensen was too valuable an investment to lose. After that the clip ended.

"Test subject and tool? I… didn't know you felt that way…" Pritchard said after a moment of silence with that soft voice Jensen had heard only rarely from him. "So what did he do? Did he have a kill switch installed with your augmentations?"

This time Pritchard sounded more worried than annoyed. The one to answer was Eliza.

"David Sarif used something to send a signal which was surprisingly similar with the one Adam had just disabled. I was able to modify it a bit to ensure his systems would restart on their own. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. I can't even keep this connection going on for much longer."

"There is something you could do. Jensen has one of those tracking chips much like the scientists we were looking for earlier. Could you help with that?"

"I already did, Francis. I initiated the masking signal right after the event I played back earlier. If you want me to hide you as well just contact me."

"But I don't have..." Pritchard started but the connection was abruptly cut before he had time to finish the sentence, "... a tracking chip" was said for a pocket secretary screen with words 'Goodbye Francis' on it.

"That went well" he muttered with a tone where it was impossible to tell if it was sarcasm or not. He then turned back to Jensen, pausing for a moment to stare at the brand in his forehead before he asked.

"So let me get this straight, you tried to resign from the Sarif Industries, and mister Sarif went all 'you're my property' on you?"

"It seems so", Jensen answered feeling tired. Even thinking started to be exhausting now. He probably was not alright medically or technically speaking but seeking any other help at the moment felt too risky. Even being here was putting Pritchard in danger he wouldn't have had to have, something which he had thought only after Eliza's last comment.

Pritchard seemed to have noticed as he left the edge of bed saying, "Just get some sleep. What was going on with your power system wasn't actually healthy to you, as it caused a lag of oxygen. I'll grab a coffee and get working. It will be a long night but now I know what I'm looking for."

Jensen couldn't have agreed more and was asleep already when Pritchard left the room.


End file.
